


NEBULA

by MommasBabygirl



Category: Twenty One Pilots, Video Blogging RPF, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Jack is bi-curious, Josh is there to help, Mark has superpowers, Mark is like deadpool, More Tags/Relationships and Characters will be added, Multi, Septiplier is main pairing also, Writing this is so hard because I don't wanna make anyone seem like a dick, but all in the future, don't, duh - Freeform, just don't ask, long ass tags sorry, smut in the future sorry again, there is a lot of cursing sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8269246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommasBabygirl/pseuds/MommasBabygirl
Summary: "Thanks for making me famous as 'The Douche',  by the way." "It's kinda not normal for superheroes to flip citizens off, y'know." "Who said I'm a superhero?"





	1. "Kinky."

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, new story! I'll probably fix the other one later, like, eventually. At least I know what I'm doing in this one haha sorry

"Oi, what has one to do to get a doughnut around here?"

 

Particularly far behind in the line that started at the parking lot of the doughnut place near the centre of the city, stood a male. It was probably Dunkin' Doughnuts, by the way. He's too stressed to care.

And that's our Protagonist, everybody. Mark E. Fischbach. Aka Markiplier. Flaming red hair, a jaw that could pierce the heavens, tight sleeveless hoodie in the same shade as his hair, dark blue shorts, Rambo's structure and his worn white AirForce scratching the concrete under him.  _Fife minutes_. He thinks.  _Fife more minutes and you guys are dead_. He snarls at his reflection in the shop window. He crosses his arms as his hands start to twitch from range. He can't do the same mistake again. He already promised to be a good boy today to his dog.

Before he knows it he's counting to ten to keep his calm.  _One_. He thinks.  _Two_. He continues.  _Don't make me say it_. He starts but he skips three and goes to seven directly as somebody bumps into him.  _Eight, you motherfuckers_. But he doesn't get to nine as the kid behind him sets his hand on his shoulder accidentally, probably. He pulls out his M9, which was stuck between the lace of his shorts and his top, a pure miracle nobody noticed, and shoots two holes through the confectionery display. Needless to say, pure chaos erupts.

 _It's not a daily thing_. He promises himself.  _Everyone can have a slip-up every now and then_. He assures as he opens his car door, falling into his seat while setting a box of Dunkin's specialities onto the passenger seat along with his gun, the entire building collapsing to his right. The huge doughnut, the former sign, passing him as he starts his car and drives off. The cracking of fire still in his ears so he turns the radio on while driving out of the parking lot and onto the street. Some sort of Spanish rap playing in the background as he cranks his window down and turns the corner.

 

**XXX**

 

It's when he somehow manages to randomly find a radio station that airs german rap that he notices the commotion in front of him. Currently surrounded by traffic on the Thomas Bridge? Vincent Thomas Bridge? Anyways. There's suddenly screaming. One shot. Two shots. And of course, the cherry on top, a cheap ass explosion. Some cars fall onto their sides. One flies off the bridge. Nothing too dramatic. He just hopes they can swim.

He props open the box of doughnuts and takes one out before stepping outside and locking it. Just in case. His pay check isn't stable and the car was expensive as fuck. It isn't that long of a walk before he stands in front of the destruction after wiggling through a crowd of fleeing people. One car is tilted over, underneath a woman screaming on top of her lungs for help. "Soon." He assures her as he scans the area for any signs of criminals, terrorists, anything, really, taking a bite of his snack. He goes unheard by her pleas. "Jesus, woman." He mumbles as he turns around to examine the situation.

So now he's squatting next to a tourist girl who's stuck waist down underneath a car that's threatening to fall onto of her with one of its wheels turning dangerously close to Mark's head. 

Also, not to forget that Mark has to deal with the full dramatic couple package now because out of nowhere, this green haired guy with broken glasses and suit appeared on his knees next to her, begging me to call the ambulance or something. So it's actually a relief to him when somebody suddenly holds up a gun against his head while he's treating the girl's wounds. He takes his half eaten doughnut out of his mouth and sticks it on the gun, not breaking his focus on the injury. "Thanks, bud." He says.

The boyfriend is now to 130% frightened, his hands trembling and gaze locking on the guy next to Mark. The redhead stands up and leans with his hand on the still turning wheel of the car. He's not sure but he guesses the car is still running because the wheel keeps on turning underneath his palm, scratching his skin, blood running down his tan arm. "So," He starts, setting his free hand on the gun that's about to poke his eye out and pushes it down just as it shoots, the bullet piercing the concrete right above the girl's shoulder. 

"What'd you do that for, man? I was talking here." He argues as he tightens his grip on the weapon, pushing it against the owner's chest who stumbles onto the ground with a groan. "Rude. And my doughnut is on the ground now too." He pouts as he gives the gun to the male that's still kneeling on the cement. Before the guy can even open his mouth, not that it wasn't open the whole time, but you get it, Mark has already placed his hands under the swaying car and is heaving it off the bridge. 

Different small parts of it fall off. Eventually, the passenger side's door, along with the driver's seat that flipped over the passenger seat falls to the ground while Mark huffs and puffs under the weight. The wreck lands in the water soon after, leaving traces of fire on the surface.

"I'll take that." He exclaims as he takes hold on the gun again and pulls out his phone. "Pin is 5489. And watch out." He warns as the green head unlocks Mark's mobile only to be paralysed by a pair of boobs on the wallpaper. "The 5th contact. Call it for me, will ya?" He huffs as he dives behind a car and lungs for somebody armed. Soon enough the ringing echoes over the area as he swings his weapon around the guy's throat from the back, choking him.

 _"Dickface, what is it?"_  Greets an elder woman, judging by the voice. "Fuck me, man. I said 5th, not 6th. Ugh, Miss McCallaghan, how are you?" He answers, glare directed towards the guy with his phone in the hand who is most likely close to fainting in fear.  _"I'm trying to find my cat while my monthly pain of haemorrhoids is shooting up my ass."_

"Splendid." Mark chirps sarcastically. "Just wanted to give you a heads up. I found this dude out here who's willing to pay for my rent." He says as he turns one the bodies on the ground with the tip of his Ak and crouches down next to it only to pull two stacks of money out of their pocket.  _"Good. Now piss off."_  She ends the call and the phone locks shut.

In the distance, the sirens of multiple police cars and ambulances can be heard while Mark flicks the weapon off the bridge and approaches the couple again. He takes his phone out of the cowering man's hands and starts, "So, like, you never saw me and all that shit." He flips both off before strolling back to his car and driving roughly backwards through the narrow space the cars that fled provided. Bumping his vehicle every so often. 

 

**XXX**

 

"Shit, man. Told you not to get into more trouble." Mark placed his drink on the counter while the bartender spoke. "Not like I really searched for it. It literally happened just in front of my nose." He said, shaking his empty shot glass between his fingers. "Actually," He started. "I think the universe is trying to tell me something." He stated. The male behind the bar covered his mouth like on cue. "Mark,  _kchh_ , the dark side is,  _kchh_ , awaiting you,  _kchh_." He imitated you-know-who. "Har har." The redhead laughed, rolling his eyes. "Funny."

"So, genius, what do you plan on doing if that leprechaun of yours or miss ching-chang here tells the press about their encounter with you?" The bartender asked. "They won't." He argued.

"And what makes you think that, Mark? Intimidating people into shutting up might have worked until now but some people think the police can protect them from rookies like you." He said, blue eyes challenging and blonde hair falling into his face. "Because," Mark began, tapping the counter with his glass. "The next thing they're gonna wake up to is gonna be my dick in their mouth if they do, Felix." He huffed.

"Kinky." The blonde teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"By the by, aren't you supposed to feed your dog or something?" Felix asked, hand on his hip. "Nah, she probably ate my landlord's cat anyway." He snickered, though he still stood up. "I'm probably gonna go and get some stuff, so, I'll see ya."

"Finally, please never return." Felix joked, earning a flip-off by the other.

The drive home was tiring as Mark had to get groceries. And by 'get', I mean steal. He doesn't consider it stealing, though, as he likes to think of himself more of a Robin hood of the new age. It's simple, really. Grocery shops get their supplies for 1/3 of the price they sell it. 1/3 of the income probably gets the chef of the whole establishment. Conclusion: Rich motherfuckers need to come down their high horses sometimes. Of course, the cashier wouldn't listen to that, so he just tells them to say hi to the big boss for him as the alarms go off and he left the place, middle fingers up high.

His neighbourhood is the worst, well, at least for him. The apartment is small and the building reeks, but at least the woman one floor beneath him forgets to put her Febreeze away after cleaning her part of the stairs so he can cover the odor of his place with it.

He can already hear nails scratching against the door as he unlocks it and it's no surprise, whatsoever, that the only being that survived in his dank hole of a home, for more than a year, to knock him backwards and with his head against the railing of the staircase, just for the fun. He laughs about it as he pets his Golden Retriever.

"Alright, c'mon girl." Mark cooed while stepping into his apartment and going straight for the kitchen, setting the paper bag on the small island. He dug up some chocolate chip cookies. "Well." He thought out loud.  _Why take one when you can have all, right?_

So he ended up watching soccer on an oriental channel called TRT1 or something while stuffing his face with the last cookies. At around 2 Am he found himself switching programs to CNN news, just to be sure. You newer know how different people deal with problems. And, sure as hell, Felix was right. Someone apparently had filmed him lifting the car, and as if the press having his footage of him being supernatural wasn't enough, those two bastards had revealed incredibly much knowledge about him.

Mark was now playing along with spiderman and IronMan as, wait for it,  _'The Douche.'_

"... Sean _'Jack'_ McLoughlin was luckily able to cooperate with the police after a longer debate. He says that he appreciates the help received greatly, but..." And Mark had already zoomed out.  _Jack, huh? Big mistake buddy._

 

_Big mistake._

 

And the cookie in his mouth had snapped due to the pressure of his jaw tightening.

 


	2. "What, he? Cheating?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually not this fast w updates sorry but these are just the chapters I had written before for the version on Wattpad. I will try to hurry tho haha!

Spying on people actually wasn't a typical thing for Mark, promise. Well, expect when he manages to come home around eight just when this hot Latina from the apartment building next to his gets back from work to dress up for night activities.

Honestly, watching a guy eating cereals and picking his nose isn't something he's really keen of.

One week after his first appearance in the media he managed to find the couple that decided to be a pain in his ass. Taking that literally would've been way more bearable for him than this situation he's caught up in right now.

A few days ago Mrs green head got released from the hospital, and since then Mark has been sitting on the roof of the building opposites of the hotel the two were staying at. Lucky him that the girl was still shaken by the accident or else he'd have to watch them going at it. Which wasn't that bad, who denies free porn? But jacking off in public isn't really his slice of pie. Then again, filling out coloring books for adults while eating his fifth portion of dumplings today wasn't either.

So taking the liberty to follow this "Jack" character, he found himself sitting on the ceiling of the Uber driver that picked Mr. McLoughlin up. And after a 15 min ride, he set him off at some overrated and overpacked Starbucks place. He got off the car shortly after Jack did, fixing his bucket hat while rushing to hide in the streams of people entering and leaving the café. He caught a glimpse of himself halfway trough the door, and oh man, he was really looking like a douche in that hoodie with his black skinny jeans and Nike air max.

At least no one would talk to him like this.

Sitting down on the same table as some business guy who had his laptop propped up and his earphones in, Mark hoped he would ignore him while he scanned the area for the walking blabbermouth. Which he found.

Just not in the position he would've expected him to be. And that is kissing a red-haired guy. The kind with the sides brown short and middle long dyed. His kind.

Leaning slightly forward he could make out its and bits from the dialog that they were having without seeming suspicious.

"I'm so glad we could do this-"

"Yeah, she's a really nice person Josh, she deserves it to be proper."

"So what is your plan? Stay here or go-" Jack was overlapping one foot with his other, shy and hesitant before he answered. "I'm not really sure, y'see, we don't even know each other besides our late 5min Skype calls. Let me-"

At this point, Mark was having serious issues with catching up. Was Jack cheating? He sure didn't look like the type that would.

"I'm just afraid that this is only a phase, y'know." _What was he, a freshman? I swear I wouldn't be surprised if he had 15 different Tumblr accounts_. Rolling his eyes, he took a sip of the coffee from the guy next to him, bouncing his leg up and down in thought. After a few minutes of arguing about whether or not he should do something now or later, he decided that he had heard enough for now and moved to get out of this stuffy place.

Just as he passed by the table, the McLoughlin guy stood up to take his jacket off, giving Mark the opportunity to-,

"Hey!"

get a good grip on that firm ass.

Leaving the café with his hands in his pockets, he pulled out his phone, speed dialing the number of his friend. He waited a couple of seconds before a husky voice answered him coughing.

"D'you get it?"

"Yeah." He smirked, pulling out another phone from his pocket he just had his free hand in. The silver apple icon blinding him shortly with the stray sun rays poking through the rain clouds. "Poor guy is stupid as fuck. You could literally steal something in front of his fucking eyes and he still wouldn't see it." Turning the phone around, he examined the lock screen. A fucking quote to 'love yourself'.  _Just kys, dude_.

"Why didn't you?", the person on the other end laughed.

"Fuck you, Ryan."

"Yeah, fuck me." Mark laughed out loud, hanging up and ignoring the stares he got. Turning on his heels, he headed with the salmon stream of people up the street. A twenty-minute walk of him humming Bohemian Rhapsody under his breath and he abruptly stopped, causing multiple people to bump into him, fall, stumble, and curse. Taking a right suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, he caused once again more people to take a step back for him.

He made his way into a small Chinese store by the side of the street, dismissing the option of politeness and greeting the landlords of the establishment before going up the first flight of stairs that confronted him upon entering the shop. Pushing two sliding doors apart, he now stood in Ryan's so called, 'Headquarters'.

Wires, totally unnecessary and overrated labels, technical looking devices and bunch more packed the small space that his friend's apartment provided. Everything was kind of hidden in the darkness, except a few dots, buttons or warn lights presumably, blinking here and there.

"Did you bring lunch?" A chair turned in the far left corner of the room. Behind some walls of old displays and unused computer parts was a hand raised, signaling Mark to get closer.

"Dude, you're literally living over a Chinese place. I don't know how you keep that form of yours with that much laziness." The redhead mocked, leaning onto Ryan's desk which he currently sat on, going through multiple simple hackable data from Sean William McLoughlin and Co. "Anyways, I got his birthday, a couple of names of family and friends, and also some old phone numbers down already." He grinned up at the other who was transfixed on the screen, brown hair falling over the white and black Colombina mask he uses to wear to avoid getting caught by some, probably still working, camcorders that were littered somewhere in his room.

Sighing and standing up properly again, Mark took off his hat, combing his hair ruffly with his fingers. He put the stolen phone onto the free part of the white mousepad in front of him, putting his hands back into his pockets as he watched his friend connecting the device to three different Pc's that he pulled the lid up suddenly.

Back when he got to witness his first hacking process, he was kind of really extremely incredibly much disappointed. It was nothing like the Matrix.

A bunch of things would come up, like pop-up ads, but they looked like those 582 paged agreements that would come up when you installed something and you would just agree on them cause nobody actually reads that shit. Why would they be called agreements if you didn't agree with them, anyways?

It took the brunet full two minutes to get through the Passcode. Being the bored and impatient guy he was, Mark turned to Ryan as said person snorted in amusement. "What was the code?"

"Pussy."

"Oh my god. Dude, dude please don't-" The redhead wheezed between short outbursts of laughter, covering his eyes as he tried not to tear up.

"Mark, Mark I'm to 100% affirmative that this guy has a daddy kink." He clapped, chuckling before going back to his work. A smile still playing on his lips as his friend was finally able to answer him. "And, like, the most pathetic part about this is that he doesn't even know it yet."

"Yeah, but he's soon about to." Snapping Mark out of his quiet laughter, he pointed at his screen, pulling up the display of a currently filming streetcam which was focused on the entrance of some hotel close by. Despite the video being monochrome, the redhead could easily make out those dorky glasses that Jack liked to wear in awkward situations. In those few days he spend stalking this guy, he found out how Sean would put them on when he felt like he wasn't taken seriously enough, or when he wanted to seem calm and collected. Which he obviously wasn't, judging by the speed he used to rush inside the building just to escape stares that didn't even exist.

The video disappeared from the screen, opening up more space for Ryan to work on getting information out of the stolen phone. After a couple minutes of him putting in multiple words mark wasn't familiar with, the brunet turned to his friend with a knowing smirk. "You should go and check up on your special snowflake."

"Why? And how are you able to spy on him" He asked, leaning closer as the other one pressed his earphones against his own head to listen better. "I'm hearing trouble in Paradise-town. Also, I managed to hack this Josh guy's phone thanks to Jack's one.", the PC guru singsonged.

 

**XXX**

 

Mark doesn't know why he wasted 5 minutes of his precious time by hanging upside down in front of room no. 206's window, watching two guys getting it on. But the more valid question is, why he went through so much trouble getting into the Hotel and turning the 'Do not disturb.' sign around just as the charwoman came out of the room opposite to him right after. But he knew one thing, all that shit was worth it as he heard Sean screech, the sound probably echoing through LA.

 

**XXX**

 

The whole taxi drive back to his apartment was pure agony. He was definitively not made to think this much. He kept going through the scenario that just occurred. Kept telling himself that he did it to tease the tourist. Kept convincing himself halfheartedly that it was to get his revenge eventually.

Drowned in thoughts, he pulled out the second iPhone that was in his pocket. Sean's. It had turned dark outside, the street lamps shining through the tinted window messing with the self-adjusting lighting settings on the device. Sighing, he tapped the passcode in and went through the most recent calls he found. Chuckling under his breath at how this Josh character was saved under the name 'Dominos', he scrolled down until he found what he searched for. Clicking the msg icon next to the contact he desired, Mark wrote a quick text before tucking the phone back into his pocket.

 

 

 

**Babe <3**

 

                                                                               Hey Wii baby, sorry for staying away for so late, I got lost a couple of times and just now found my way Xx

 

 

 

I'm just glad you're fine Seany. I got really worried there for awhile. See you at home babe Xoxo

 

 

yeah see you soon X

 

 


	3. "Zapp Zapp, motherfucker."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated?? omg
> 
> Fun fact: I already feel exhausted from the pressure of coming up with things to update and this is only chap 3, Jesus

Waking up to your phone ringing wasn’t the most pleasant thing. Especially not if it was still six in the morning and you had a booming headache. 

Rolling around on the floor of his apartment, Mark reached his hand out to get the possibly important call. He hissed as his hand hit a gas cylinder. With droopy eyes, he tried again, this time with success. 

“You own the mic, what’s your beef?” He slurred, kind of regretting that he didn’t even check the caller ID.

“Jack? Is that you? Are you alright? I’ve been trying to reach you this whole time! You didn’t come home last night, where are you?” A panicked and worried voice turned the redhead’s stomach around. He was literally about to vomit. 

“I-I, um-“, he coughed. “look let me call you back alright I’m not feeling really well.” He pushed, biting his tongue slightly. 

“Sean? Are you alri-.” Mark didn’t listen, He had already declined the call and rolled back onto his chest before curling up slightly. 

He’s never gonna try getting high on helium again, that’s for sure. 

He threw the phone across the room in frustration. This Jack dude better killed himself overnight or he was gonna do it for him. 

With the shattering of the phone, a wet nose pocket his cheek suddenly. Lifting his hand to pet his dog’s head, he apologized for waking her. “Sorry Chica baby, go back to sleep for me, please.” 

As she sat down next to him, Mark decided it was time to stand up and check on the problem kid. He still doesn’t know why he didn’t decide to send the couple a package of dead pigs like Mr. Leto had. He was too far in to ignore the matter now. 

“Fuck.” He cursed as he slowly sat up, backbones popping and the disgusting sound waking him up a little more, making him realize the horrid taste on his tongue. Nevertheless, he checked on his phone first instead of eating something. _Five calls from Felix?_

“Yo, what’s up?” The American asked as the blonde finally picked up. 

“I called you so often!”, his friend huffed on the other end of the phone. “Felix? What’s going on?” He mumbled with scrunched up face. Thinking was making his headache worse. Why does he even experience simple pain like this? What happened to his healing factor, huh?

“We got a job, hurry the fuck-,” and he got cut off by the sound of statics and the line disconnecting. 

Trying to worry with the state his mind was in right now, Mark pushed himself off the ground and took steady and strong steps towards his kitchen for a gulp of juice before leaving in a haste. 

He took the milk container out of his fridge that he used to fill with orange juice and tilted it over his mouth, half of the liquid missing his mouth and staining his shirt that he probably switched with his sweater yesterday. 

Slipping into some pair of white shoes he found laying around, he left the apartment and went down the stairs by gripping the unstable banister rail and flipping himself over it onto the end of the staircase. 

He stepped out of the building with quick steps, rushing down the street while following the route on his phone that showed the easiest way to Felix’s phone which he managed to track. Who knew the ‘Find Phone’ app was legit useful for once. 

His friend wasn’t as far as he’d thought though, lucky him. The blonde stood at the corner of some casual fight in front of a bar between two guys. 

Shimmying his way through the crowd that had built around the scene, Mark clapped Felix on the shoulder, making him turn to face the redhead. 

“Finally. Make those two stop or there is gonna be some serious consequences to follow.” 

The American was just about to ask why this would affect anyone but those two that no one probably cared for, _I mean, if anyone did, then they would have stopped them in the first place,_ when the phone that was held up to film everything behind him zapped and caught fire out of nowhere. 

“The guy in yellow has powers without even knowing it. This could get nasty if it got out of hand.” The blonde huffed, watching Mark move to block the punch the person in the yellow hoodie was about to get on the brunet that was on the ground. Pushing the fist of the guy he held back and against their own face, the redhead watched as the hit left a visible burn mark. _Did he fucking burn himself with electricity?_

“Oh, roasted!” Felix yelled behind him. 

Mark proceeded by hitting the guy, who now struggled to not stumbled, with his leg against the crooks of his knees, knocking him face first onto the ground. 

Stepping on the guy’s back, the American watched as the one under him put his hands on his back, gripping Mark’s ankle.

“Hey! Let go you-,” Before he could manage to shake him off, he was already on the ground, rolling around to sooth the pain. Felix, of course, rushed to his side. “Dude, shit, you alright? You’re looking like Einstein with that zapped hair.” 

“Fuck you, just help me up.” He murmured, fingers twitching in Felix’s hand as his friend tried to pull him up. Now properly sitting on the cement, Mark pinched the bridge of his nose while the blonde looked up to check on the yellow hooded guy. 

Blue eyes widened as there was only the beaten brunet sitting there. 

“Mark, he’s-“ He got interrupted by his friend. 

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Waiting for the other one to regain his composure, he helped the redhead up to his feet. Once fully stable, Mark huffed. “I’m going after him, and you go and call Ryan to locate Pikachu so my job gets easier. They’re airing a new episode of the Kardashians today and I don’t wanna miss it again.”

Gripping the spout of the bar behind them, the American climbed step by step up until he reached the edge of the roof with his hands, pulling himself up and onto it. Sighing in relief as a noticed that his hands weren’t tingling anymore, he concentrated on spotting anything that would give him a clue.

Nothing was to be seen until rows after rows of streetlights turned out. Tires squeaked, some minor car crashes happened in the distance. Mark turned to look down the building. Felix was standing below his friend. 

“Is he messing with the public utilities?”, the American asked, leaning slightly down. 

Cupping his hands around his mouth to sound louder, Felix answered. “Yeah, Cry says that the guy is somewhere close to the city center, probably trying to connect to the subway.” 

Huffing out in annoyance, Mark strolled towards the opposite edge of the roof, setting his right foot on said edge. He pushed himself off and onto the next building and further, going from ceiling to ceiling and sprinting towards LA center.

Halfway to reaching his destination, his pocket buzzed. Jack’s girlfriend was calling him again.

“Jeez.”, he breathed, turning the call down and shutting the phone off.

 

 

**XXX**

 

 

If Mark had to describe what was going on, he’d laugh. Laugh and punch the person who asked in the face.

Why? Because he was being strangled with a cable by that e-guy, hands holding onto the underside of the deathtrap while he tried to not face the people 800 feet beneath him. 

“The Douche, was it?” The guy laughed as Mark struggled to reply. 

“And-, ugh, you couldn’t find a hole tiny enough for your dick so you fucked an outlet or wh-, argh, what?” He chuckled, wheezing slightly with one eye shut by the force he used to hold himself up. 

With a scowl, the guy sent a shockwave through the redhead, shutting him up. The American wished he would’ve paid more attention to the fight from the beginning. That fucking goth kid with his green hair had distracted him back there. Green is a fucking distracting color, alright? 

Body trembling and fingers twitching around the cable, Mark breathed in deeply before slightly swinging back and forth. 

Just as Benjamin Franklin here was about to ask what he is doing, the ego-driven American swung harshly backwards against the guy and rammed his heel into his crotch. 

Mr. Electricity stumbled backwards on the roof, pulling Mark accidentally with him until he dropped him on the ground somewhere close to the edge. What? Did you really think they were flying in the air or something only because that guy has the powers to charge your phone? 

 

Pushing himself up onto his still slightly trembling legs, the redhead moved to tie the cable he had around his throat a second ago tightly around the guy’s hands, holding his knocked out of breath body on the ground by stepping on him. The pressure on his back making him gasp out. 

Mark pulled out his phone, calling Felix to tell him that he managed to survive, rubbing the red traces of the cable on his throat to soothe the pain a little. 

“Dude, yeah, I got h-“, and his breath escaped his lungs suddenly as an unexpected impact flung him off the building and with stretched out arms down 70 ft, the asphalt cracking under him as he came in contact with it.

The American opened his eyes slowly, groaning as he lifted himself out of the mold he left on the street. He shook his head to get the dust out of his hair, turning to look at the people that screamed in panic. The half hour Mark needed to finally to get out of that guy’s grip over hundreds of civilians had caught not only their attention, but also the attention of several news crews and the police that surrounded him from a couple of feet distance. 

“Ugh, shut up. Y'all are making my headache worse. Grow some balls and get the fuck out of here if you're fucking afraid.” He yelled over the sound of panic and shrill sirens. “Fucking bitches.” He murmured. 

Mark watched as the guy stumbled with hunched back around on the roof until he fell to his side and a figure pinned him down. Narrowing his eyes to make out who that was, he was distracted once again by someone with green hair in the corner of his eye. 

He faced to the side annoyed to see an angry green haired guy waving a broken phone in his hand while he got held back by a policeman and another redhead like him. Jack.

Ignoring how it was his friend Felix that struggled to capture the guy on the roof, he walked towards the sour boy, meanwhile checking his pockets. No phone. _They must’ve fallen out._

The closer he got, the clearer he could hear the other one cursing at him. He pushed the officer and Jack’s second partner aside, hindering the green boy from trying to attack him by pressing with his palm against his head to hold out of punch distance. 

“The fuck were you doing with my phone you bastard?” Jack grunted, pushing Mark’s hand off his forehead with force. The redhead didn’t answer, though, only nodding towards the phone. 

Irritated, Sean pressed a couple of times on the home button until the cracked screen opened up to his menu after it adapted to his fingerprint. The first thing he noticed were the 5 notifications that appeared to be missed calls and texts from his girlfriend. He went silent for awhile, reading through the messages Mark had sent for him and the texts Signe had replied with. 

Without another word, the boy stuffed his phone into his pocket, not once looking up from the ground to face anyone. 

Then he spoke to the American. 

“I, uh, thanks. Um,” The shyness made Mark nearly gag, so he put his hand on the green head’s shoulder, interrupting him and making him look up. 

“All good. Now c’mon, I’m bringing you home.” His resting bitch face didn't turn into a convincing smile like the other one would've anticipated, so he pat the boy on his shoulder before moving that hand to scratch his own neck. 

Taken by surprise, Jack furrowed his brows. 

“Why? I’m perfectly capable of going myself.” He argued.

“Yeah, but if she sees you with me she’s gonna believe the lie that I kidnapped you or something for talking about me in the media. Which, by the way, I do not appreciate!” Mark’s tone going higher at the end caused his voice to crack halfway through. 

Jack only sighed in agreement as he moved to hug his boyfriend goodbye for now before he followed after the other redhead, going a notch faster than normal to catch up with Mark’s pace as he kept his gaze on the ground. 

 _Don’t Mark._ He tried to resist cheering the other one up. 

_Fucking hell Mark, no. What happened? Did that guy zap your balls off?_

 

_Mark, no._

 

 

**_Mark!_ **

 

 

 

“So, Jack. Tell me how you got into this mess.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit I just found the plan that I had made for this story and I remember now how the plot was supposed to be, and I feel like a monster for what I have to write in the future>>> sorryyy


	4. "Dead but alive? Seriously?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howwwww???? Help I can actually update regularly???

To be blunt, Mark hated the inner turmoil he was experiencing right now. The question whether he should click away from the screenshot of a porn website add with huge tits as click bait, and open Google, or stay true to the old ways and jack off to a cheap shot of boobs.

Day after day the same routine, masturbating to hot girls on cheque cars, and it exhausted him. The end result, the excitement for the after bliss, had died down within mere month of repeating the same act. At this point, there were no more endorphins to spread some sort of short-lived happiness through him.

To be honest, he doesn't even remember what an actual orgasm feels like anymore.

He wants to take a risk, wants to look up something else for a change, but if he went too far, he wouldn't care what he masturbated to anymore. He could never bear the thought of himself getting off to child pornography in form of hentai.

And he thinks that bondage might be considerable, but within the five minutes of him internally debating, and his finger hovering over his mousepad, his erection eventually died down at some point, so he doesn't bother with it anymore and pulls his hand out of his boxers.

Like on cue, there was a knock on his door, and he kind of regretted not jerking off, because if he would be right now, he would've ignored the door.

Groaning, he pushed his laptop off his lap and himself off his creaking bed.   
He swears there is a spring stuck to his back as he sluggishly moves to his door, but he doesn't care enough to check.

With his shirt ridden up by his hand scratching his stomach, he pulls the main door to his apartment open.

"Mark, hey! I finally managed to find your address!"

He actually really badly regrets not beating off to anything at that particular moment as he recognizes who's disturbing him this late at night.

There, in black leggings, equally black sporty shorts and a red oversized Adidas hoodie with matching red Vans that are not even fully touching the ground, is Jack, on his tiptoes, presenting Mark a bucket of popcorn and an Oscar-winning smile.

Before the redhead had even the slightest chance to reply, Jack already had pushed by, his arm gazing over the redhead's exposed hip, a shiver running down the spine of the American which lead to him becoming irritated, highly.

After a couple of moments spend in his own thoughts at the still open door, he finally is kind of able to recall what occurred last night.

Seeing as Jack was down and Mark had no idea how to cheer someone up, he had invited him over to watch, as pathetic as it sounds, late night reruns of Oprah. He didn't know what the boy had understood wrong, but he was overly enthusiastic about the idea of spending time with the ego maniac.   
 _What, is the government paying you now to deliver more knowledge about me?_

Eventually, he managed to take Sean back to his hotel room.   
He made the poor boy trip and fall onto the ground in front of his girlfriend, who had rushed to the entrance as soon as the sound of the doors opening stirred her out of her nap.

Signe looked dead tired as she cast a worried look towards Jack, kneeling rashly down next to him to help him up.

With a practiced quivering voice, he had told her about what "happened". The apostrophe meaning what they had discussed to tell her what happened.

Mark didn't care for the following "I missed you" kisses that would have come if he stood any longer, so he had moved to get out of there.

Now being two in the morning, Jack apparently had his 'reunion-sex' endorphins pumping through his system as he sat down on the couch and leaned back to face the redhead with a patient smile.

Awkwardly closing the door and shuffling towards the couch himself, he sat down on the other end of it, bending forward slightly to pick up the remote from the floor, his shirt apparently slipped slightly up his back to reveal toned skin and a blushing green head as he sat back up.

With a sigh, he switched his old box-like TV on and slumped back against the couch. He threw the remote on the coffee table in front of him and moved his hand to the popcorn that was still in Jack's lap without looking.

Mark actually hesitated before  grabbing for the bucket, saying, "Touché.", before finding the lid of it in his hands, instead of Sean's dick.

The other one giggled lightly, putting the corn between them to avoid awkward innuendos. "Why did you feel the need to say that, huh?", he asked. He could have shortened the question down to sound more chill than polite, but whatever.

"Dunno, I was just so convinced that I saw this scene as an opening for a porno once." The American snorted, before stuffing his mouth with sugary goodness.

Jack laughed at that. He didn't chuckle, or ignore him. Didn't call him out for sounding stupid. He laughed lightheartedly.

"You're so fucking gay." Mark laughed with him, hitting the boy's arm playfully.

Covering the spot that he just got hit at, which would probably bruise soon, thanks to his pale skin, he kicked the other's heel.

Mark remembered him telling that he was from Ireland. Did they all laugh at everything there? He knows Felix would've hit him.

"And what makes you think that, you Deadpool knock-off?"

The redhead went with his fingers through his hair, taming his mane, before he answered. "Wait, wait, what were you again? That's right, fucking bi-curious, that's why."

That hit Jack deeper that Mark had anticipated.

The Irishmen moved his hands to his lap, pushing with the heels of them against his thighs as he stared at the TV without responding to the other's comment.

Mark's mood for banter and small laughter died slowly down as he watched Jack holding in tears.

He coughed in hopes of clearing the awkward tension that settled between them, until the boy eventually spoke.

"You know, I never wanted it to be like this. I mean, I have a beautiful and understanding girlfriend." He sighed, pressing the heels of his hands deeper against the fabric of leggings and shorts.

"Until this, this fucking guy appeared out of nowhere. He just texted me. So I asked who he was and he apologized and told me he got the wrong number."

Mark just watched as Jack's bottom lip started quivering , his mind close to collapsing as he watched the boy break down slowly in front of him.

"We started having a meaningless conversation. Each of us answering only when we got time. Sometimes it took us a week to reply. Until we started exchanging more personal matters."

The American reached out to wrap an arm around the trembling boy, occasionally a tear slipping down his cheeks as he pressed his face into Mark's shoulder. The feeling of somebody in his arm foreign to him.

"Eventually, we Skyped, and he complimented me on my 'good looks'. Said how 'cute' I was. Soon I realized he was straight up flirting. And I-, I didn't-, I never stopped him. Always went back to call him at night so he could boost my confidence and ego."

The boy held onto the other's shirt, staining it more and more with tears as he wept in Mark's arms.

"I used him. I-, I didn't even feel guilty back then. I thought I deserved it. Thought god sent him to make up for the times I suffered. But it just got worse, Mark." He looked up to the American as he sniffed and stuttered while breathing between snot and salt water like a five-year-old.

Curiously, Mark asked, "How much worse?"

Placing his forehead on the redhead's collarbone, Jack answered. "S-, she, Signe, got suspicious about me standing up late at night, so to make it good to her, I took her out on a vacation. Little did she know, that I also came to talk with Josh and apologize to him. Break up. But I couldn't."

"I want to be dead for one of them, and alive for the other one."

Having enough of the therapy session that Sean turned this into, Mark leaned back with the boy still in his arms and tried to relax against the couch.

Even though he was in the most uncomfortable position ever, he decided to leave Jack be and stay with him like that until both would hopefully fall asleep. 

"This is so gay." He sighed against the soft green lawn close to his head.

Jack pushed his other shoulder in a weak attempt to hit him playfully as he chuckled, "shut up, you like it.", before falling carefully asleep.

Seeing as he couldn't reach the remote without moving the other one, Mark decided to end the day? Morning? By counting sheep. 

 

**XXX**

 

When he woke up, there was no green head to greet him on his lap. No smell of bacon and eggs, and no note around. Mark felt like a wuss for even considering that Jack would do something like that. This was no one-night stand, no morning after the third date. 

He also feels incredibly gay now for thinking like that. He doesn't care where the problem kid is, or why he left at the first place. Probably to get back to his hotel room so his girlfriend wouldn't get suspicious again. As he starts to feel better with having a reason for Jack's disappearance, he also feels like someone is shoving gayness down his throat now.  _Must be the reason why my morning breath tastes this horrible._

At least the boy had left the half full bucket of popcorn on the table. 

Taking a handful, Mark pushed himself out of the position he was laying in, and got onto his feet. Apparently, one of them had also fallen asleep, because as soon as he stood, he couldn't hold his balance and found himself laying once again. Only this time in the chards of his small coffee table.

He spend two hours looking up at the same spot on the ceiling. When he first moved into the apartment, he ordered pizza to celebrate it with the nice bartender he just met back then, Felix, his future friend. One of the pieces is still stuck there on the ceiling, and Mark slightly opens his mouth in hopes that it will fall off. 

His phone is ringing somewhere in his bedroom, but he can't convince himself to stand up. And that is when memories bubble up to his surface.

As miserable and frustrated as he feels, he reaches through the pieces of broken wood under him to find the gun he stuck under it just in case of emergencies. 

Taking a hold of the plastic handle, he shoots, without hesitation, up at the ceiling and through the pizza, which still manages to stay stuck to it. There are some screams, and a lot of stomping around on the floor above him, but he doesn't care. 

The redhead throws his weapon across the room and proceeds to go back to sleep. After all, it's still 10 AM and he doesn't, nor will he ever, care the least bit for Jack. 

 

 _Uh, um, yeah. That's right!_  


	5. "No jealousy here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you fucked up there Jack, didn't u? and u still keep fucking up, like, bruh, seriously

"So, babysitter?"

"Never talk to me or anyone around me that is still in my earshot ever again."

"Tumblr?"

Mark scrunched his face up, leaning a little more onto the bar counter and closer to his phone that was plastered with pastel colors and aesthetic tits.  _Is it still aesthetic if you call 'em tits?_

"Why the fuck, do you even need to be on there? Forgot your own gender or something?" Felix asked, pouring his friend another flat glass with Vodka and ice cubes.

"Fucking Jack, called me up and told me I'm supposed to pay for his fucking phone because his insurance isn't covering anything that happens outside of his home country or something." The American mumbled, sighing as the blonde placed the drink down and he sat up.

"Gonna meet him later today. Hope he's gonna turn the other cheek if I'm able to make some small talk with him." He glared at his phone while he drowned his drink, Felix laughing in the background.

"Well, I'd love to help you with this, but I have a date waiting for me to drench her panties." Mark's friend bragged as he pushed the redhead out of his seat and towards the entrance. Letting himself be pushed, the American nodded, chucking his phone away.

"Alright, alright, I gotcha. You goin' grandma washing again for charity, right?" He chuckled, hitting Felix's arm in a playful manner as they managed to reach the entrance of the bar, another bartender suddenly rushing by them and inside for the shift change. Lucky Felix, only worked till the afternoon.

"Yes, funny, har har." Mark could literally hear him rolling his eyes while he struggled to get his half apron thing off. "Whatever dude, I'll see you around." The blonde pressed on, clapping the redhead on his back as he passed him to get to his own car.

Mark snorted, wolf whistling after Felix to tease him as the other one swung his hips a little. If the American wouldn't know the blonde by heart, he'd label him 100% gay, that's for sure.  _Ya ain't straight if ya can't walk right._

He pulled his phone out once again, checking the time quickly before giving Ryan a call. 4:46pm and the, oh so annoying, beeping tone was interrupted by chuckling.

"What? Already calling again?" Cry laughed at the other end, the sound of his fingers hitting  keys swiftly clicking in the background.

"I just want to have this done as soon as possible, alright?" Mark huffed out, pushing his free hand into his pocket.

"Alright, alright. So, I got some people sorted out that would agree to participate, with some cash in exchange, that is."

"Oh great, some cheap ass actors. No thanks dude. If the government finds out who they are, they're gonna spill everything." The redhead argued while moving across the parking lot of the bar and towards the café that he was supposed to meet Jack at. He checked his armpits for sweat stains while Ryan sighed.

"Mark, man, we gotta take somebody for this. If you're gonna be a dick then come up with better ideas. Also,"   
The American clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You might wanna take your time with going to the café. Jack is not even out of his hotel room yet." Cry laughed as he watched how Mark nearly bumped into somebody, via street cam.

"It's fine, he probably is trying to convince his girlfriend." He sighed, pushing the surprisingly heavy door of a small pastry shop open soon after. "Whatever. Hurry up. Bye now." He declined the call, placing his phone on a free table for two.

Mark fixed his hair in the reflection of the dark screen of his mobile, his thoughts wandering around the subject whether Jack was actually gonna show up or not.  _What are you doing, bro? This is no fucking date, of course he's gonna show up. He wants your fucking money. That greedy bitch, not even thanking_ _you_ _for helping him out on the bridge a few weeks ago._

He actually wanted to mess with his hair in anger, but he left it, in case the boy would take him more seriously if he looked a little bit more proper.

After a little bit over fifteen minutes of nervous shuffling with his feet against the tiled floor of the shop and ordering, plus eating a stack of pancakes, a familiar green haired boy pushed himself through the entrance and into the seat opposite to Mark.

Exhausted, he pulled his jacket off before taking a sip of Mark's coffee, which lead to a lot of irritation from the redhead. Nevertheless, Mark spoke first.

"So, because of that money. Well, y'see," But before he could finish, Jack had already shut him up with a quick hand gesture.

"That's not why I wanted to speak with you. I knew you wouldn't meet me if I told you that I felt guilty for leaving like that a few days ago, and for never actually thanking you for what you've done."

Mark sighed, leaning back sideways and against his armrest with his right elbow. "It's fine, really. You're in pretty deep shit right now. Besides, I never really enjoyed revenges and such."

Jack hadn't looked up to Mark since he had arrived, just been staring at the table, or how his shoes scraped against each other. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and you could tell how uncomfortable he was under the American's gaze.

They both fell into a horrible silence that was drying Mark's throat with all the gulping he was doing. He decided to do something about that.

"Ok, um, listen. How about we go to my place? We can watch Juno and I can order a pizza or something. Sounds fair?" He suggested, his former plan being that he brought another coffee to survive the silence until Jack would feel awkward enough to leave. The drinks were just too expensive to even initiate the OG plan.

Sean's eyes lit up like every of Mark's cars that the redhead tried to save but always ended up lighting on fire.

"Sounds awesome! I mean, only if it's not too much of a hassle for you of course." He made sure, holding little to no eye contact with Mark.

"If it would be, I wouldn't have had told you in the first place. " He rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of the chair while placing ten one dollar bills on the table for the two of them before they left.   
Fun fact, the coffee's had cost around fourteen dollars and he was being a douche. Nothing new on his behalf, though.

With slumped shoulders, Mark was walking down the crowded street, Jack following close by as he skipped between every second step to keep up.

Seeing as Mark didn't look like the type that would talk too much, the green head decided to text Josh. He hadn't done that since the last time he saw him, and he was afraid that the poor guy was worried sick.

The phone wasn't broken fully, but the screen was flickering horribly and at some point, it was just bound to catch Mark's attention. Which it certainly did.

"What are you doing?" He asked curiously, hands in his pockets and leaned slightly down to get a better look on Jack's phone.

The Irishman shrugged, gaze fixed on his screen as he answered while typing away, "Texting Josh.", not noticing as the redhead's face turned into a frown.

"Oh, cool." He said, turning his eyes back on the road as he washed his expression off his face by replacing it with a nonchalant neutral look.  _Why would I even care if he went back to sucking some fake redhead's dick._

"What?" Jack asked out of nowhere, cutting Mark's train thought off.

Shoulders tensed, the American tried to not panic suddenly.  _Did I say that out loud?_

"What do you mean by 'what'?" He added a fake cough as the green head clicked his phone shut and stuck it into his pocket, facing his right to look at some shop displays while walking by.

"I was wondering what  _you_ meant by, 'oh, cool'. Like, what? Are you jealous or something." He laughed as Mark puffed his chest out in defense.

"No! Of course not. Why would I be jealous of that cock sucker? I just don't think he's a good influence on you."  He huffed, the tips of his ears turning bright pink.

"Hah, says who? The guy that nearly kills the people that he's supposed to help?" He pushed playfully, hitting the redhead on his shoulder.

Mark didn't understand how he could be this defenseless about the people he loved.  _Maybe he just doesn't want bad blood between us two, so he's trying to play it cool._

"So where are you originally from?" Jack tried to change the subject, laughing at how lost Mark looked.

"O'ahu, um, Hawaii. It hasn't been that long since I moved here, actually." He spoke, scratching his neck while looking off into the opposite side Jack was, trying to ignore said man who was pushing the corners of his own eyes with his fingertips, stretching them.

Hearing that, Jack immediately stopped, mouth forming an 'o'.  "Oh man, I would've thought you're half Chinese or something." He sighed, going with his hand a little through his hair.

"I am, I am." Mark confirmed then, chuckling at how the Irishman cocked his brow in confusion. "But I thought you're from-,"

"Yeah, but my ma was Korean."  The redhead corrected, eyes crinkling as he smiled at Jack, who happily returned the gesture.

Soon after their banter was over, they reached the apartment that the American was way too keen to return to for his own liking.

Chica was the second one to greet them by slapping Jack nearly onto the ground if it weren't for Mark to hold him in place, the first being the foul smell that had been floating around the building since Mark had moved in. Probably the genitor that was last seen checking the vents a few years ago. Oh well.

They moved to the couch after they prepped up two cups of choco.

"I still can't believe that you were creeped out by Bleeker." Jack laughed as he plopped onto the overused cushions.

"He's fucking weird, ok. Have you ever seen his face?" Mark exclaimed, his voice going a pitch higher as he put the DVD in.

While Jack kept laughing, Mark watched him as he sat down next to the Irishmen with a smile, head spinning with thoughts.

They spend the half of the movie teasing each other and arguing over the most stupid things, like, "Mark, no! Vanessa is so cute.", and, "Fuckable or nah? I mean, I'd fuck him senseless."

Up till Jack said something that he probably shouldn't have said.

"I say nah. I'd rather fuck you than him, to be honest."

He didn't even realize what he said until Mark took his gaze off the TV screen and turned slightly to face the green head who noticed soon after his mistake, blushing madly as he avoided the half Korean's eyes.

The movie went on in the background, both not paying the least bit of attention towards it as Mark's gaze shifted back and forth between Jack's eyes and his lips, leaning in slowly without being aware of it.

That is, until Jack had collected enough courage to face the redhead who now was only inches away from touching the Irishmen's nose with his.

Both breathed thickly as the air hung low in the room. Mark felt like suffocating would be a more pleasurable option.

"Jack, I-," but before he could even think of finishing the sentence, he was already silenced. Silenced by two warm lips that fit perfectly onto his.

 

Jack was pushy, pushy as fuck, threading his hands through Mark's blazing hair as he pressed his knee against the American's in hopes that he would move it so he could slip closer. His wish was granted as the redhead sat up slightly while sliding his hands over the green head's hips that were covered by a thin sweater.

Lips moved against lips, and soon Mark decided that he should start to slow the situation a little down. If Jack would be close enough, he wouldn't even hesitate to rut against Mark, which was scaring the half Korean a little.

He took Jack's lip between his teeth, making the other whimper a couple of times until he could move his tongue between Sean's lips, finally.

Tongues moved against each other and Jack was being surprisingly quiet.  _Maybe he's one of those people that are noisy motherfuckers normally but shut up in bed?_

That is, till Mark decided to move his hand up Jack's thigh.

"Ah, J-, Josh."

Mark's hand stilled while his eyes opened in shock, just in time to witness Jack doing the same. 

The American slowly leaned back, but he wasn't far enough to breath freely, so he moved onto his legs, brushing the dust off his jeans.

Sean was dipped in crimson as he watched Mark stand up. He wanted to say something, but was beat to it by the other one.

"It's gotten dark outside. Uh, do you want to stay the night? I can take the couch and you can sleep in my bed if you want." Mark suggested awkwardly, hand on his neck.

"No, it's alright. I'm just going to call a cab. Thanks for having me over again." He said while he pushed himself up onto his legs, taking his cracked phone from the table that Mark had replaced after he broke it a few days ago.

The green head moved past Mark, who just stood still, and slipped into his shoes before throwing a quick, "Bye.", at him and shutting the door behind himself.

The half Korean moved to the window that faced towards the street, looking down in time to see Jack walking out of the entrance under him, hand around his phone as he called somebody. While talking he turned around every now and then, looking up at Mark's apartment before facing the street again.

A few minutes later, a gray car pulled up, the driver's side opened and out stepped Josh, the guy he wanted to see the least at the moment.

Jack hugged him quickly before getting into the car after his 'boyfriend' opened the door for him.

Bile rose to Mark's mouth. He felt disgusted. He had kissed Jack. And he felt disgusted because he had kissed him. There was no guilt involved. He just hated that the boy just kissed him.   
He wasn't jealous that it was Josh who Jack called as he felt down. He wasn't disappointed that Jack wouldn't stay to patch up the awkwardness with Mark.

Mark just hated the kiss, and the kisser.   
  


 

At least that's what he told himself.

 


	6. "Dark!Jesus, can you imagine?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... sad Markimoo and good friend Felix 
> 
> I think I got too deep too fast in this chapter.. Well, rain, jazz and chocolate is apparently no good base for a happy chap, sorry...

_**DECEMBER 2nd** _

_6th one. And that in 3 days! Applause to you, you ugly motherfucker._

Mark hated his thoughts, and he hated the taste he had on his tongue in the morning way more.

His bedroom smelled of musk and smoke. Probably from the 3rd Girl  that had followed into his trap.

Mark was a wreck, and so were his curtains that hung loosely on his window, shining dots of light through. He doesn't even want to mention the state his room was in. And he's kind of getting sick of spotting different colored silk panties everywhere he turns his head to.

He's drenched in sweat and too lazy to shower, so he drowned himself in his 5th perfume tester he got for free the last time he went shopping.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, scratching his half beard thing that seemed to be growing thicker every minute. While his hand went past his face to go through his greasy hair, he stopped himself as his face scrunched up in disgust.

Going down on girls was fine. Having them on his hand and tongue the next morning was not fine.

The gothic he brought with him last night had apparently disappeared or was slicing his neighbor's cat apart right now. Either way, he couldn't bring himself to stand up, nor did he really care, to be honest.

You know those three stages a person would go through if they got dumped? Yeah, Mark lived through them already.

First, simple sadness that was laced with shock. The shock of realization. The realization about knowing what he had developed to feel towards Jack in this short amount of time.

A few seconds later, stage two had kicked in.

Anger.

He hated himself for about four months. Four months of self-hatred was the worst and he felt like a 16-year-old teenage girl that was body shaming herself.

He felt disgusted. How could he have fallen so quick for the other one.  _That piece of Irish shit doesn't even deserve to talk to the likes of me._

He wasn't gay. Gay people wouldn't think about death as much as he did. They're gay. They're happy. Literally.

In those months, Mark spent most of his time tearing down his apartment and dealing with the loss of a being that was close to him.

Jack? No not Jack of course, but Chica. Mark had left her in a home after he realized he couldn't look after her anymore with the whole anxiety thing now knocking on the door of self-esteem every time he wanted to go out with her.

A few days ago, though, he came up with a better idea to cheer himself up instead of breaking his furniture in two.

One night stands.

Within three days, he managed to sleep with six different women, bringing down  _their_ self-esteem by insulting them in bed and leaving them to walk themselves out at five in the morning.

Today was different, though. Today he woke up with something else than suicidal thoughts for a change.

He felt drained out. Used and abused.

His phone was buzzing somewhere in the living room, between shreds and shreds of leather and glass.

Carefully, Mark pushed himself onto the side of the bed and then onto his feet. This newly evolved feeling he had was making him dizzy. Vertigo suddenly kicked in as he took his first step, so he supported himself by holding onto his wardrobe.

Reaching the kitchen after not too much struggle, he took hold of the phone that was mounted to the wall and pulled the receiver close to his chest where he looked down at it as he typed his friend's number into it.

He hadn't talked to Felix in awhile and he feared that he wasn't gonna find his mobile phone if he would search for it right now.

The all familiar beep echoed in Mark's ears as he pulled the receiver up to his right ear. He rested his back against the wall that the phone was attached to and slid down slowly.

The line still wasn't connected as he sat down on the cold tiles, back pressed against the white wall behind him and knees up, right in front of him. The half Korean's fingers played with the white cord that hung from the device in his hand, and he suddenly imagined how nice it would feel to have it around his throat.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice on the other end of the phone.

"Jack here, how can I help you?"

Mark suddenly couldn't breathe. What was he doing? Why was he so emotional? He didn't even feel sparks fly when he had kissed Jack. Was it regret? Regret that he hadn't ignored the other redhead's name after it slipped past the Irishman's lips.

Why did Jack answer the phone, anyways?

He gulped a couple of times, Adams apple bobbing in his throat painfully.

"J-, Jack?", he breathed out, but there was no answer. Suddenly he panicked. Was he too quiet for the other one to hear? Mark could never find the courage again to call him after this.

What he didn't expect was what followed.

"Shit dude, I didn't know you could be such a wuss. It's Felix, you cocksucker. It's been three or four fucking months and I'm hearing of you now?"

Mark suddenly remembered that he didn't even know Jack's house number. Remembered that he only knew Sean's mobile phone number, and only the one he used during his stay in America. He was disappointed, to say the least.

"Felix, my man. How have you been?", he croaked, wrapping the cord in his hand, around his index finger.

Mark felt uncomfortable, and he hated how the thought of declining the call and burying himself in his bed sounded better. He doesn't know how the situation went as far as to him avoiding his friends, but it just did. 

"What the fuck? What even happened to you? I thought you were dead!" Felix exclaimed loudly, making Mark cringe at how energetic he was being.

He wanted to feel someone close to him again. Wanted a hand to tug on his hair again. He couldn't believe how much he missed Jack's lips.

But Jack was not there anymore. He was back in Irland. A few days after Josh had picked him up in front of the half Korean's apartment, he had to fly back with his girlfriend.

Mark didn't realize how long he was captured in his own thoughts, but at some point, the blond on the other end had snapped him back into reality by screaming his name into the receiver.

"Shit, I'm taking care of your superpower ass from now on. We're going out and you're gonna forget about that leprechaun bitch, alright? I'm picking you up in 10." Felix ordered, canceling the call before the redhead could even attempt to protest.

Mark let go of the phone in his hand and let it hang on the cord, watching it bounce slightly back and forth while beeping rang through the kitchen.

He couldn't find the strength to pull himself up, so he decided to wait until Felix would find his way into his apartment.

While he waited, he thought about why he let himself down like this, and he did something that he probably shouldn't have, because the main reason why he was such a mess floated up onto the surface.

Mark felt like drowning, drowning deep down in the ocean while smooth Jazz played in the background, accompanying him on his way to suffocating.

He would never see Jack again.

Sean William McLoughlin had no reason to show up again.

The waves of imagination hit him hard, and he slid onto his side, glass shards poking his skin on a dangerous level. He couldn't feel them.

 _Is this even possible?_  He thought.  _Can you fall for someone without noticing it until they're gone?_

There were a couple of knocks on the door. He knew it was the blonde bartender, so he made no move to open it.

A couple of feet in front of him was a bottle of cheap Walmart Vodka. The most of the see-through liquid had already oozed out and had puddled around the glass bottle. The sight was nothing special, but he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere else, and it was calming him in some sort of way.

He could hear his living room window being forced open from outside, but the sound was incredibly muffled and dull as he was concentrating on the one drop of Vodka that was still forming on the opening of the bottle.

There was thumping, then feet moved in front of his face. Spectator shoes, how iconic for Felix.

All of the sudden, there were hands pulling him up forcefully by his arms. The back of his head leaned against the pearl white wall as he managed to be sat upright.

Felix was talking to him, his gray Trenchcoat hanging loosely around his thin frame and black skinny jeans stretching around his legs even more as he crouched down in front of Mark.

The American wasn't acknowledging it though. He listened to the beeping of the phone next to his ear, the ding that was shrill in his ears as the droplet of alcohol dropped into the puddle, and his own heartbeat.

Another sound was added into the bunch as Felix's phone started buzzing in his pocket suddenly, 'Hotel California' playing along with the pumping of blood in his ears.

He wanted it to be 1989, and the spirit to return.

"Mark?" His friend's face popped up in front of him after a few minutes, the fog in his eyes clearing slowly, but surely.

"Mark, talk to me.", Felix repeated his name, snapping him finally fully out of his trance.

The half Korean still couldn't bring his mouth to open, so he looked up at his opposite, blinking a couple of times to confirm that he was listening.

"What happened to your place, man? What happened to you?" He sighed, turning slightly to pick up the bottle Mark was staring at before. The redhead felt kind of angry at the blonde for interrupting the Vodka flow.

"Have you been drinking?" Felix asked out of nowhere, looking back up from the bottle in his hands to Mark with disappointment gleaming in his eyes.

Mark couldn't stand the pressure he was under and turned to his right with his face, the phone that still hung on the cord tapping his forehead every now and then.

He felt ashamed, to say the least. What would his therapist say to him if he saw him?  _Yeah, Mark, what would Mr. Barnes say? That's right, he would look at you the same way Felix is looking right now. The look of disappointment. You let them down, you egoist._

_Ever thought about why everything that you touch scurries away from you? Leaves you? Why your apartment looks like a rathole? You're the deliverer of Satan, Mark. You're dark!Jesus, my friend._

The blonde watched as his friend was having an internal breakdown, so he placed his hand onto the redhead's shoulder, pushing it back against the wall forcefully and whipping Mark's head back to face him with the movement. Only then did the American realize what color Felix's eyes actually were.

Blue. Blue like hope.

_Blue like the ocean, Mark._

He was drowning once again, so he reached blindly out and forward, grabbing onto his friend's dress shirt that was neatly tucked in before he held onto it.

 

And that's when Felix heard it for the first time. Mark had whimpered. Mark was lost. Mark was helpless.

 

Mark just hit rock bottom in front of his eyes as the first tear fell.

 

He couldn't believe that he came back to this after four months. He wanted to laugh out in irony. He used to be the emotional fuck back at the time. Used to cry every time he would  break up with a girl, and Mark would be always there to console him. Go out to parks with Chica and him.

Speaking of the dog, where was she? She used to run up to the blonde every time he would come to visit.

"Mark, concentrate, please. Concentrate for me." Felix pleaded, laying his hand onto the hand the redhead was holding his shirt with. "Where is Chica, Mark?"

That's when he fully snapped, pulling Felix closer and his head into the blonde's chest. The strong smell of perfume overcame the American's senses while he proceeded to soak the shirt in his grip in tears.

Felix couldn't bear this. He was not used to be in this role at all, so he asked again, patience growing thin.

"Mark, where is she?" He pressed on, ignoring how the other one shook in front of him.

As he didn't receive an answer from the half Korean, he pulled himself out of his grip, irritated. Mark wasn't somebody to console with hugs and kisses. Those would just drag him further down. You could rather dig him a grave instead of baking cookies for him, saves both more trouble, really.

Mark was a different case. So Felix did what was more appropriate and raised his hand, bringing it down in a hard slap.

The sound of skin against skin echoed in the bartender's ears as Mark just sat there, facing the side his head was pushed to by the slap, eyes wide in shock and unblinking as he tried to process what just happened.

The longer Felix stared at him, the more he could make out those purple bags under the American's eyes, the puffy redness from the crying and the dried blood on his lips from biting on them too harshly or often. The red handprint he left on his cheek was covering the traces his pillow had left on his tan skin that tears were glistening on.

In all simplicity, Mark looked brain-dead. Which you probably are if you let yourself go like this over one person. But who was he to talk. He was the one that cried after simple crushes.

Felix didn't regret saying, "Can it, Mark. You only knew him for a week. You guys didn't even really make out." Nor did he regret the small tantrum he threw seconds after about how Mark was able to let himself get this destroyed over someone he didn't even really know that well.

But he did regret that he looked at the redhead while saying these things. The redhead who's mouth was quivering to get an answer out, but couldn't.

This whole thing was no one's fault. Not Jack's, not Mark's, not Signe's, not Josh's, not Felix's, nor Ryan's. Mark just had to move on. But he somehow couldn't.

But, there is always one person that can convince you. You could literally be a murder and be moments away from calling the police to hand yourself in, and there is this one person that is able to convince you to stop, tell you otherwise and make you believe. That's just a bad example, but you get the concept.

Well, Mark had someone like that too. And if it wasn't Felix, well, then there is only one person left.

 

He just had to arrange a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm genuinely sorry for moving this fast and making Mark cry without having even made the two of them bond properly, but I thought this story should progress a little and two cute itsy bitsy dates with a half makeout session would be enough. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm in Christmas mood and I'm gonna make a lot of shit happen in the December part until the first and second Christmas day (The two days after the 24th) where I'll put up two special updates.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! <3


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